• i-ovs oidei' * * DE AVITT^S '' Actiii;^ Plays. 

PS 2919 PRTCF. 25 CENTS. 

f .S534 
H5 



'^"^ ^ DE WITT'S ACTING PLAYS. 'sKS) 



(Niinxl>er 3 58.) 




HICK'RY FARM. 



A Comedy-Drama of New England Life. 



irO- TTTVO .A.C37S. 



By EDWIN M. STERN 



TOGr.THElt WITH 



A Desc'iiplioii of tlie Coetiimes— Cast of tlie Cliaiacters— Entrances 

and Exits— Uelative Posiiioiis of tlie Pei'foriuers on the 

Stage— ami tlie wliole of the Statje Bii&iuess. 



bl THE DE WITT PUBLISHING HOUSE, |d 



^^ 



A COMPLETE DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE OF DE WITT'S ACTING 
PLAYS and DE WITTS ETHIOPIAN AND COMIC DRAMAS, containing 
Plot, Costume, Scenery, Time of Representation, and all other information, mailed 
free and post-paid on application. 



DE ^S;\^ITT'S 



ETHIOPIAN AND COMIC DRAMA. 



Kothlng eo thorough and complete in the way of Ethiopian snd Comio Draraas has ever 
been printed as those that appear in the following list, Kuc oiiiy ^d--? tus plots excellent, the 
characters droll, the incidents funny, the languap*- tumoi-ous, out all the situations.^y-play, 
positions, pantomimic business, scenery, and tricks are bo plainly set down and clearly 
explained that the merest novice could put any of them on the stage. Included in this 
Catalogue are all the most laughable and effective pieces of their class ever produced. 

*if* In ordering please copy the figures at the commencement of each piece, which 
indicate the number of the pleco in " De 'Witt's Ethiopian and Comic Drama." 

j6S~ Any of the following Plays Bent, postage free, on receipt of price — Fifteen Cents 
each. 

J8S- The figure following the name of the Play denotes the number of Acts. The 
figures in the columns indicate the number of characters — il. male; F. female. 



M. F. 
141. Absent Minded, Ethiopian fiirce, 1 

act 3 1 

73. / frican Box, burlesque, 2 scenes. . . 5 

107. Airicauus Bluebeard, musical Ethi- 

opian burlesque, 1 scene 6 2 

113. Ambition, farce, 2 scenes 7 

133. Awful Plot (An) Ethiopian farce, la. 3 1 
43. Baby Elephant, sketch, 2 scenes.... 7 1 
42. Bad" Whiskey, Irish sketch, 1 scene. 2 1 
79. Baruey's Courtship, musical inter- 
lude, 1 act 1 2 

40. Big Mistake, sketch, 1 scene 4 

6. Black Chap from Whitechapel, Ne- 
gro piece 4 

10. Black Chemist, sketch, 1 scene .... 3 

11. Black-Ey'd William, sketch, 2 scenes 4 1 
146. Black Forrest (The), Ethiopian farce, ' 51 

1 act 2 1 ( 152 

110. Black Magician (De),Ethiopian com- 
icality 4 2 

126. Black Statue (The), Negro farce 4 2 

127. Blinks and Jinks, Ethiopian sketch, 3 1 

128. Boboliuo, the Black Bandit, Ethio- 

pian musical farce, 1 act 2 1 

120. Body Suatchers (The),Negro sketch, 

2 scenes 3 1 

78. Bogus ludian, sketch, 4 scenes 5 2 

89. Bogus Talking Machine (The), farce, 

1 scene 4 

24. Bruised and Cured, sketch, 1 scene. 2 

108. Charge of the Hash Brigade, comic 

Irish musical sketch 2 2 

148. Christmas Eve in the South, Ethio- 
pian farce, 1 act 6 2 

85. Coal Heaver's Kevenge,Negro sketch, 

1 scene 6 

112. Coming Man (The), Ethiopian sketch, 

2 scenes 3 1 

41. Cremation, sketch, 2 scenes 8 1 

Crowded Hotel (Th£), sketch, 1 sc. 4 1 
Cupid's Frolics, sketch, 1 scene.... 5 1 
Daguerreotypes, sketch, 1 scene .... 3 
Damon and Pythias, burlesque, 2 sc. 5 1 
Darkey's Stratagem, sketch, 1 scene 3 1 
Darkey Sleep Walker (The), Eithio- 

Dlan sketch, 1 scene 3 1 



M. F. 
Deaf as a Post, Ethiopian sketch.. . . 2 
Deede) of Darkness, Ethiopian ex- 
travaganza, 1 act 6 1 

Desperate Situation (A), farce, 1 sc. 5 2 

Draft (The), sketch, 2 scenes 6 

Dutchman's Ghost, 1 scene 4 1 

Dutch Justice, laughable sketch, j 

1 scene 11 

Editor's Troubles, farce, 1 scene.. . 6 

Eh ? What is it ? sketch 4 1 

Election Day, Ethiopian farce, 2 sc. 6 11 
Elopement (The), farce. 2 scenes. .. 4 1 

Excise Trials, sketch, 1 scene 10 1 

Fellow that Looks like Me, inter- i 

lude, 1 scene 2 1; 

First Night (The\ Dutch farce, 1 act 4 2 i 
Fisherman's Luck, sketch, 1 scene. 2 
Fuu in a Cooper's Shop, Ethiopian I 

sketch 6 ; 

Gambrinus, King of Lager Beer, 

Ethiopian burlesque, 2 scenes. ... 8 1 
German Emigrant (The), sketch, Isc. 2 2 
Getting Square on the Call Boy, 

sketch, 1 scene 3 

Ghost (The). Sketch, 1 act 2 

Ghost in a Pawn Shop, sketch. 1 sc. 4 

Glycerine Oil, sketch, 2 scenes 3 

Going for the Cup, interlude 4 

Good Night's Best, sketch, 1 scene. 3 
Go and get Tight, Ethiopian sketch, 

1 scene 6 

Gripsack, sketch, 1 scene 3 

Guide to the Stage, sketch 3 

Happy Coui^le. 1 scene 2 1 

Happy Uncle Kufus, Ethiopian mu- ' 

sical sketch, 1 scene 1 1 

Hard Times, extravaganza. 1 scene. 5 1 
Helen's Funny Babies, burlesque, 

1 act 6 

Hemmed In. sketch 3 1 

High Jack, the Heeler, sketch, 1 BC, 6 

Hlppotheatron, sketch 9 

How to Pay the Rent, farce, 1 scene 6 

In and Out, sketch, 1 scene 2 

Intelligence Office (The), Bthiopian 

sketch, 1 aceBe 2 1 



HICK'M FARM. 



A COMEDY-DRAMA OF NEW ENGLAND LIFE. 



IN TWO ACTS. 



AS PRESENTED AT THE LEXINGTON AVE. OPEr.A HOUSE, NEW YORK. 



By EDWIN M. STERN. 



XOQETUEB WITH 



A DESCRIPTIOJT OF THE COSTUMES —CAST OP THE CHARACTERS — KN- 

TilANCES ANU EXITS — RELATIVE TOSITIONS OF THE PERFORJI- 

EBS ON THE STAGE, AND THE WHOLE OF THE BTAQE 

BUSINESS. 




NEW YORK : 

THE DE WITT PUBLISHING HOUSE, 

No. 3:i Rose Stuef:t. 
Copyright, 1831, by R. H. Russell & Sos. 



HICK'RY FARM. 






CHARACTERS. 



EzEEiEL Fortune, a New England farmer. 

UuiAH Skinner, a miser. 

Gilbert Darkwood, handsome and imscrupnlons. 

Jack Nelson. 

Lawrence McKeegan, au alderman from the city. 

Detective Rankin. 

Two Constables. 

Jessie Fortune, prett}'*and unsophisticated. 

Mrs. Priscilla Dodge, a susceptible widow. 



TIME IN PLAYING— ONE HOUR AND THIRTY MINUTES. 



SCENERY. 



I Gate. I 

0. Fence. 



BShi-ul 
I Stoop. 



Tree, o 
Shrubbery. y 



Tree, o 
Bench. 



- Shrubbery. 



O O 

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 

ACT I. — Landscape backing on flat. Rustic fence running across stage in 4th 
grooves, with practicable gate, c. Set cottage r. 1 e. to ». 3 e, with low stoop and 
practicable door. Trees l. 2 E. and L. 3 e., with hammock swung between. Rustic 
bench or .seats under tree l. 2 e. 

ACT II. — A large, poorly-l'uriiished room, with cracked or rough-boarded walls 
and appearance of dilapidation. Fireplace, with snioulderin,' fire, l. Doors r. 2 E., 
L. 1 E., and c. in flat. Plain table with chairs r. ; ouo or two chairs L. 



COSTUMES. 

Fortune.— Act I.— Dark-colored or gray pantaloons and vest of well-to-do farmer; 
no coat; white shirt, with turn-down collar; substantial shoes; gray bald wig, 
throat whi.skers to match; .straw or light-colored soft hat. Act II.— Clothes 
same as Act 1, with addition of coat, but presenting a somewhat worn and 
faded appearance; no hat; shoes, as before. 



/^-3?/^/ 



HICK BY FARM. 3 

Skinner.— Act I— Well-woru suit, style similar to FonxuNE's; rather higb-crowned 

dark straw bat; sack coat; farmer's sboes; smooth face; wig, slis^btly gray aud 

bald. Act II. — Clothes same as Act 1, with addition of gray overcoat and dark 

felt hat. 
Darkwood. — Act I. — Stylish summer walking suit. Light derby or straw hat, cane, 

gloves, fancy shirt, with standing collar, and cnfl's to match; dark mustache; 

handsome jewelry. Act II. — Handsome dark overcoat, with fur collar and 

cuffs; dark pants, high silk hat. 
Jack. — Act I. — Plain mixed business suit; low-crowned felt or straw hat; white 

shirt, with rolling collar; plain white cuff.s, no jewelry. Act II. — Plain, dark, 

worn business suit; dark felt bat, woolen comforter. 
McKeegan. — Act I. — Rather loud striped or fancy business suit; striped shirt, with 

rolling collar, and cuffs to match; bigh-crowned soft hat; red bald wig, with 

reddish beard and mustache; heavy cane. Act II. — Dark travelling suit, with 

cape overcoat and flat-crowned derby hat; white shirt, rolling collar, and 

cuffs; otherwise as in Act 1. 
Rankis.— Act II.— Stylish dark suit, with heavy pea-jacket or overcoat; derby hat; 

dark mustache. 
CoN.sTABLES. — Plain dark suits, with overcoats and bats. 
Jessie. — Act I. — Simple country summer walking dress, with appropriate bat or 

bonnet, changing iu last part of act to darker travelling costume, with hooded 

cloak or water-proof. Act II. — Dark travelling costume, with sack or wrap: 

outside wrap is to be removed during act. 
Mas. Dodge.— Act I. — Dressed iu rather bad taste, with showy materials; bonnet, 

gloves, and parasol; these last are removed during act. Act II. — Travelling 

costume; with bonnet and wraps, part of which are dispensed with during 

the act. 



PROPERTIES. 



Act I.— Money (coin) for Darkwood; milk-pails for Fortune; book and flowers 
for Jessie; parasol for Mrs. Dodge; photo for Darkwood; purse and earrings for 
Mrs. Dodge; satchel and letter (unsealed) for Jessie; lantern for Fortune; pitcher 
of water for McKeegan; spectacles for Fortune. 

Act II.— Hat and muffler for Jack; flute for Fortune; watch for Rankin; hand- 
kerchief for do. ; pistol for Darkwood; pistol for Rankin. 



SYNOPSIS. 

Gilbert Darkwood, a blackleg from the city, has discovered that a projected 
railroad intends erecting a station on Zekiel Fortune's i)lace, Hickory Farm. As 
the railroad will pay a very large price for the farm, Darkwood plots with Skinner 
to obtain the title-deed from Fortune, dispossess him, and reap the profits of the 
sale. Skinner, who has a long-stiuding grudge against Fortune, agrees to steal 
the deed. Darkwood discovers that Fortune's only daughter, Jessie, is the little 
country girl whose head he had turned the preceding winter in the city, .and in- 
duces her to elope with him. Before leaving, Darkwood obtains the title-deed, 
and also manages to rob the Mayville Bank (which contains all of Fortune's sav- 
ing.s), and to cast suspicion of the robbery upon Jack Nelson, Fortune's adopted 



4 HICK BY FARM. 

son, who IB in love with Jessie. Iu the secoud act, Daekwood, who has sold For- 
tune's house over his head, ai)pears aud deuiauds the rent for the poor hovel that 
Fortune aud Jack uow occupy. Skinner, who has repented his part iu the affair 
that has brought such misfortune ou his old neighbors, threateus to expose Dark- 
wood. A New York detective arrives, and, with Skinner's help, obtaius evidence 
that Darkwood robbed the bank. Jessie returns. Jack Nelson's name is cleared 
of suspicion, aud the title-deed of the farm is restored to old Fortune. Darkwood 
is shot by the detective for resisting arrest. The love passages of Alderman 
McKeeoan and Mrs. Dodge afford a most humorous accompaniment to the drama. 



SYNOPSIS OF INCIDENTS FOR HOUSE PROGRAMMES, Etc. 

ACT I. — Hick'ry Farm House.— Darkwood's plot— Skinner tempted — Money I 
Gold! — Zekiel appears — "Be you Ann Maria's boy?" — Fortune's reminiscences— 
The deed must be stolen !— Hard cider— Aunt Priscilla's love— The alderman's 
brogue— "Dear departed Hezekiah "—Jessie's secret- -"Then you still love me?" — 
" Larry McKeegan's courtin' "—The " wiildy " succumbs—" Zekiel's fav'rif song " 
— McKeegan's ghost— Jack Nelson makes a discovery— Jessie has gone ! — " Heaven 
help me ! "—Zekiel's prayer. 

ACT II.— In Fortunes Shantt.— Zekiel's misfortunes— The rent collector— 
Darkwood's insult — " Villain, you lie ! " — Skiimer's remorse — The New York de- 
tective — The bank robbery — Darkwood threateus — Jessie returns — The alderman 
married — "Sure it's a darlint little woife she is" — Zekiel's happiness — "Gosh! I 
aiu't felt so gol-darued happy siuct I wuz a boy!" — .\ trap for Darkwood — Jack and 
Jessie re-united — Priscilla pacified — Darkwood at bay — " Stand aside, as you value 
your lives ! '' — The detective fires — " You've done for me this time ! " — Zekiel's for- 
giveness—Old Hick'ry farm restored. 



STAGE DIRECTIONS. 

R. means Eight of Stage, facing the Audience; L. Left; C.Centre; E. C. Right of 
Centre; L. C. Left of Centre; D. F. Door in the Flat, or Scene running across the 
back of the Stage; C. D. F. Centre Door iu the Flat; R. D. F. Right Door in the 
Flat; L. D. F. Left Door iu the Flat; R. D. Right Door; L. D. Left Door; 1 E. First 
Entrance; 2 E. Second Entrance; U. E. Upper Entrance; 1, 2 or 3 G. First, Second 
or Third Groove. 

R. R. C. C. L. C. L. 

jg^ The reader is supposed to be upon the stage facing the audience 



IIICK'RY FARM. 



SCENE.— Etrtov'oro/ Fortune's place. Skinner and Darkwood dis- 
covered sittinij on rustic seat, l. 

Darkwood. Skinner, Ihe fads of the case are simply these: The 
New Hampshire, Vermont, and Northern Raih'oad intend running a 
branch through this village on to Dunn's Bridge. I have it on the best 
iiutliority that they intend building a permanent station in this very 
town. They have been surveying the lay of the land for some time 
past, and have at last arranged to run their tracks along this road. 
Their depot will be built on this very spot. 

Skinner. What! on Zeke Fortune's place? Why, Zeke's in luck! 
They'll pay a big price for it now, won't tliey ? 

Dark. Yes; inasmuch as this is the most desirable location in the 
neighborhood for a station, it is likely that they will pay almost any 
price asked. 

Skin. Wliat do j'ou think, now, they'd ofl'er for the iilace ? 

Dark. Tiie minimum sum would l:>e lifty thousand dollars. 

Skin. Fifty thousand dollars! Fifty thousainl dollars! Zeke's in 
luck ! Zeke's in luck ! Ah, but he was born lucky — been lucky ever 
since I knew him. Every tiling I touch goes wrong; everything he 
takes liold on gits along ! Ale'n him loved the same girl; of course she 
married him. Luck! luck! ii is cursed luck! N(»w he's in a fair way 
o' makin' lifty thousand dollars ! I never saw half that mucii. 

Dark. But listen to me. It is in your power to make as much, and 
more. 

Skin. In my power to make fifty thousand dollars ! {ewjerlj/) Stranger, 
how. how ? 

Dark. Very .simply. If you and I owned this place instead of this 
man Fortune, tiie railroad would have to purchase it from us instead of 
him ? 

Skin. Yes; but how can we git possession of it? Zeke Fortune 
swears he'll never sell the place for any one else to live in. He's at- 
tached to the place ever since his wife died. 

Dark. But if we could o])tain it without buying it? 

Skin. Obtain it without buying it ! Why, how ? 

Dark. If I can obtain possession of the title-deed, I can make it ap- 
pear that he has transferred the house to you for a certain sum of mo- 
ney. I can forge a receipt. Do you comprehend ? 

Skin. But how to git hold of the deed ? 

Dark. It is for that reason tiiat I conlide in j'ou. You are known at 



b HICK BY FARM. 

the house, and can therefore more easily lay your hands on the docu- 
ment. 

Skin. And you say it'll be a lot o' money in my pocket? How much, 
say? 

Dark. Probably thirty or forty thousand dollars. 

Skin, {do am l. to c). Tliirty or forty thousand dollars! A heap o' 
money ! A heap o' money ! But, see here, young stranp:er, I don't 
know yon. You come to me j^ester' night, and says you, "Old man, 
I've got a job on foot, and you are just the man to do it." You tell me 
now there's money in it— thirty or forty thousand dollars; a big heap 
o' money for a poor man like me. But how am I to know that after 
I've done your dirty work you'll keep your word ? 

Dark, {down c). To show you that I mean what I saj', here is a 
voucher, {hands moiiei/.) 

Skin, {greedily clutching it). Money ! Gold ! Good money ! How 
much? Five, ten — twenty-five dollars,! Good money — all mine! 

Dark. And much more, if you succeed in obtaining the title-deed of 
the iiouse. 

Skin. You swear you'll give me more when I git the deed ? More 
money ? 

Dark. You shall have as much as you want. 

Skin. Stranger, ye. may be rich, but ye never could give me all the 
gold I want. Gold! I love it better than mother, father, sister, or 
brother. Gold ! I love it better than life itself. Sweet, beautiful gold ! 
{contemplates coin in hand.) 

Dark, {aside). By Jove ! I'm having an easier time thnn I thought 
for. This old miser would sell himself, if need be, for money. He will 
make a useful tool. Once I hold the title-deed of that house in my 
liossession, success is assured. The railway will pay at least a hundred 
thousand dollars for the property — enough to keep me in clover for 
some time to come. To avoid my presence causing this man Fortune 
any suspicion, it would be well to use some caution. An idea! {(doial) 
Skinner, how would it do to pass me off for your nephew from the city, 
son of your sister, you know ? It will keep them off the scent. 

Skin. Pass you off for my nephew ? Likely, likely ! But 

Dark. Pshaw now, no buts. You'll do it now, won't you? 

Skin. Do it ? Hm ! Yes, ef ye make it worth my while. 

Dark, (aside). Confound the old fool ! he's bleeding me like a leech, 
{aloud) You know I ask you to do nothing free gratis. Here's a proof 
of what I say. {hands money.) 

Skin, {eagerly). Money ! 

Fortune {outside). Whoa now ! Stand still there, Nora ! 

Skin. Zeke's voice ! He's comin' this way. 

Dark. Remember, Skinner, I am j^our nephew, {crosses to l.) 

Enter, c. Fortune, with milkpail in each hand. 

Fortune {speaJcing as he enters). Wall, I'll be gol-darned ef that 'ere 
brindle ain't the skeeriest crittur in Christendom; she all but stepped 
into the pail, by graciou.=!. (seeing Skinner ojid Darkwood) Wall, I'll be 
gol-darned ef it ain't 'Riah Skinner himself ! How be ye, 'Riah ? {to 
Darkwood) How be ye, stranger ? 

Skin. (l. c). My nephew, Zek'l, from the city — Ann Maria's boy. 

Dark. (l.). Mr. Fortune, I'm pleased to know you. 

Fort. (o.). Wall, I declare to goodness gracious me, be you Ann 
Maria's boy ? Why, man, I know'd ye afore ye war born ! an' I'll be 



HICK RY FARM. 7 

gol-darned ef ye ain't the liviii' pictur' of yer mother. A likely gal was 
Ann Maria. Slie was my Sund'y-go-to-meetin' gal onct, was Ann Maria. 
My, how slie'n me did the sparkin' act ! That was afore I met Lucy 
Jane Snyder. 

Skin. Yes, an' cut me out o' marryin' her. 

FouT. 'Riah never could get over tlie way I spliced Lucy Jane right 
under his nose. We war great swells in them days, 'Riah'n me, I tell 
ye. I'll be gol-darned ef we didn't burst more heart^'n tliar was gals. 

Dark. Yes, my motlier has often told me of the good times she had 
during her youth. You were one of her favorites. 

Fort. Wall, I tell ye, young man, 1 wa.s a mighty smart lookin' chap 
w'en I was young, an" it took a mighty spry gal to get away with a hull 
heart w'en I was 'round, eh, 'Riah ? 

Dark. You possess a very desirable place here, Mr. Fortune. 

Fort. Oh, yes, pretty comf table; couldn't wisli nothin' more. 

Dark. It's just such a i)lace as I have long wished to buy, as a sort 
of investment, you know. Could you be induced to part with it at your 
own price ? 

Fort. Part with Hick'ry Farm ! No, siree bob ! Not ez long ez Zeke 
Fortune lives, nor arter he's dead nuther, ef he kin help it. I built this 
'ere jilace fur me'n Lucy Jane jest arter Parson Brown had tied the 
knot. Fur many years we lived together in it, happy"n contented. In 
it my darter Jess was born, an' in it Lucy Jane, God bless her, gin up 
the ghost, ez I mean ter w'en my turn comes round. So ye see, stran- 
ger, tliis house'n me are old relations, an' Zeke Fortune ain't the man 
to go back on his relations. 

Dark, {a^'cie). Tlien there is but one thing to do; Skinner must steal 
the deed, and at once. 

Fort. Jehusifet! but ain't it hot ! Jest walk inter the house, an' I'll 
give ye some hard cider o' my own makin' ez'U make ye think o' para- 
dise. {f/ie>/ f/o toicaril /innsf', fti/khiff.) [hZrif Fortvse info /loxse. 

Dark, (at door). Remember to keep your eyes open. Skinner. You 
must act at once. The title-deed and your forty thousand dollars. 

[Exit into house. 

Sktn". {aohat). Oh, I won't foiget ! Zeke Fortune, my turn hez come 
at last. Ye won die only woman I ever loved from me. I've never 
forgiven that. Ye'll have a taste of the life I've lived since tlien. 
Things'll be changed when I git hold o' that title-deed. You'll be the 
pauper then. " [Exit into house. 

Enter, i,., Jessie and Mrs. Dodoe, as if retin'ninrf.from n stroll ; Je.ssie 
irith tjook and basket of flowm-s, dressed sini/ilf/ ; Mrs. D. dressed 
gori/eonsli/, ^xtrasol, etc. — exceplionalli/ had taste. 

Miis. Dodoe. Thank goodness we're home again, though we've had a 
delightful stroll. But oh liow warm it was I I must confess, Jessie, I 
was just a little disappointed. I half expected to meet the alderman 
this afternoon. 

Jessie. Now, aunt Priscilla, what can you see in that common-place 
Irishman, I don't understand. So plebeianly vulgar, and sucli a dread- 
fully bald head, fringed all around with scarlet hair. Fie on such taste, 
1 say. 

Mrs. D. Je.ssie, your utter disregard for my feelim:s quite shocks me. 
Alderman McKeegan is my friend, remi'mber, and in my presence you 
will be kind enouijh to talk of him with common decency. 

Jessie. And what a dreadful brogue he has. 



8 hick'ky farm. 

Mrs. D. Brogue, my dear, brogue? You probablj^ have reference to 
his Celtic accent. That is one of iiis chief attractions in my eyes. And 
then he is so very witty. Really, I never feel wearied with the alder- 
man's company, {tliei/ no vp and sit l. ) 

Jessiic. AV'hy, aunt, I positively believe you have set your cap for the 
Irish alderman. Imagine me calling that savage, uncle. Ugh ! {makes 
r/riniace) Aunt, I should think you had had enough of matrimony. AVhy, 
it's not six months since you buried your third. 

jMus. D. And what of that, miss, what of that ? I flatter myself I look 
young enough to be your sister, for all that. And what if I have been 
married three times '? I'm good enough for three more. 

Jkssir. Why, I've got a regular Bluebeardess for an aunt ! Oh, aunt, 
you have no romance; you always were so matter of fact. 

Mils. D. Romance? Fiddlesticks! That sort of thing was all well 
enough in olden times, and will do for those wretched, silly books that 
you spend hours in reading. But in the present day of progression 
and e very-day common sense, such trash won't do. My dear, when you 
have lived to be of my age, and have passed through my vnriegated 
and numerous matrimonial experiences, you will have very little ro- 
mance left. 

Jessie. That's just what Jack says of romance; he calls it rot, fiddle- 
sticks, and so on. 

Mhs. D. Jack Nelson is a sensible young man, and would make you 
an excellent husband. He reminds me very much of my poor dear de- 
parted Hezekiah. He was my first, you know. 

Jessie. Oil, but Jack is just too disgustingly matter of fact. It was 
only the other day that I was reading to him one of those clelicious love 
scenes from Bertha Clay's last novel, "His Mustache was Ins Fortime," 
when I was startled by a loud, terrific snore. Jack was actually sleep- 
ing. 

Mrs. D. I can't blame him, my dear. Such stuff" and nonsense would 
put any sensible person to sleep. 

Jessie {coi/li/). Aunt, will you promise never to breathe a word if I 
tell you a secret ? 

Mrs. D. My dear, I flatter myself I am difl'erent from most women in 
one respect at least; I know how to keep a secret. Why, it was only 
yesterday Mrs. Smith was telling me how she intended surprising her 
husband with a magnificent pair of slipi)ers for his birthday next month, 
and implored me not to say a word about it. Oh, I know how to keep 
a secret. 

Jessie. Well, then, aunt, I'm in love ! 

Mrs. D. Let me congratulate you, my dear. Has Jack proposed ? 

Jessie {disdai/ifiiU//). In love with Jack, that raw-boned, matter-of- 
fact Hoosier ! Aunt, I tliought you gave me credit for better taste. 

Mrs. D. Not Jack? AVhy, I thought it was all settled between you 
two. Parson Brown spoke to me only last Sunday about 

Jessie {intemrpting). I marry Jack Nelson? Never! I'd drown 
myself first. I — I 

Mrs. D. {i)itevr>iptiii(i). There, there, that's taken from one of .your 
trashy novels. You could go a great deal farther and fare worse than 
marry Jack Nelson. He earns a good salary at the bank, he's straight 
as a die, and would make a model husl)and. 

Jessie. But I tell you, aunt, I never could marry him. I won't! I 
won't ! So there ! 

Mrs. D. And yet it is not so long ago that you looked with anything 



hick'ry farm. 9 

but disfavor on Jack Nelson's attentions to 5'ou. From when dates this 
sudden aversion ? 

Jessik. Ever since I visited ui}' old sclioohnate, Nettie Foster, in New 
York. 

Mks. D. And j'ou met some one there you liked better ? 

Jessie. Yes. Oh, aunt Priscilla, he is so liandsoine ! black eyes, and 
the sweetest mustaciie, and so tall and commanding. 

Mi!s. ]). And pray who is this Adonis, who has stolen your heart from 
honest Jack Nelson ? 

Jessie. His name is Gilbert. Is it not a lovely name? 

Mrs. D. It reminds me of tlie name of a villain in a play. 

Jessiic. Oh, aunt, how can you ? He was born to be a hero. 

Mus. D. And this man told you lie loved you — turned your silly little 
head, no doubt, with iiis romantic talk. 

Jessie. He does love me, aunt, and some day he is coming to marry 
nie. He swore it, and though since then I have not heard from him, 
something tells me he will come. 

Mks. D. {risuig). Well, my dear, I hope with all my iieart that he 
never will come. For, were he an honest lover, he would not have de- 
layed so long. True love, my dear, admits of no barriers. Take my 
advice, Jessie, and forget all about this city chap. [E.iut into lionse. 

Jessie (l., oh sea./, solus). Oh, aunt does not know Gilbert, or she 
would not speak like that. A nobler, truer, more honest heart than his 
never beat in man's breast. I know he loves me, and lie will come, for 
he swore it. But I wonder wluit has come over me to-day. I feel as 
downcast as if I knew there was some uiihappiness in store for me. 
But pshaw, iiow morbid I am ! What could hapj)en to cause nie mi- 
happiness ? (in deep reverie.) 

Enter Darkwood, /ro?;i house, stands at door, holding picture in hand. 

Dark, (aside). By Jove ! if it isn't Jessie, the little girl whose head I 
turned last winter in the city. I promised I would come and marry 
her. (Initghs) Wonder if she has become tired of waiting. What a fool- 
ish chit of a girl she was. Believed every word I told her, by Jove ! 
Rather a coincidence that she should be the daughter of the man I am — 
(.se^'<';/f/ Jessie) Hello ! a woman! Jessie, by Heaven ! Wonder if she'll 
remember me ? (goes up tn Jessie and touches her on shoulder.) 

Jessie {starting). Gilbert ! You here ? 

Daiuc. Then you remember me? 

Jessie. Remember you ? I was thinking of j'ou at this very moment. 
But what brings you here ? 

Dark. Is it necessary to ask ? I come to fulfill my promise made to 
3'ou last winter. 

Jessie, Tlien you still love me, Gilbert ? 

Dark. More than ever, my darling. And you, have you still a little 
corner in your lieart left for me ? 

Jessie. Gilbert, it seems like a dream to have you here near me. I 
can scarcely realize it, I am so hapj)y. 0!i, Gilbert, do you remcmljer 
those delightful times of last winter, how you met and loved me ? Oh, 
you do love me, darling? 

Dai:k. Do you for one moment doubt me, Jessie? See, here is the 
photograiih you gave me. {taking lucturefrom pncki't) I carry it always 
next to my heart. Do you remember the promise you made me on that 
last nighty that you would be my wife ? Ah, but I read my answer in 
your eyes. It is yes. Confess now that I am right. 



10 hick'ky farm. 

Jessie. I am so happy! You will never leave me again, Gilbert; 
promise me that. 

Dark. 'I'liat is impossible. Listen, Jessie. I have no time to spare. 
Business of i)aramount importance imperatively demands my return to 
the city at once. But 

Jessie {ut(errup(i7ir/). Scarcely have you come, when you speak of 
going away. Is that loverlike ? 

Dark. My darling, 1 cannot stay; but if you are willing, we need not 
part. 

Jessie. I do not understand. 

Dakk. It is simply this. You can come with me. We can be mar- 
ried early to-morrow morning in the city, and after the honeymoon has 
been spent, we can return and celebrate with the old folks. But mind, 
it is imperatively necessary that you should leave here without acquaint- 
ing any one with our intention. 

Jessie. Not tell aunt Priscilla, nor daddy ? 

Dark. Circumstances which will not bear explanation now, but which 
you shall hear later, make such a course compulsory. 

Jessie. To leave without a word to daddy ? Oh, Gilbert, I cannot; 
it would break his heart. 

Dark. And yet you say you love me. The very first request I make 
you refuse. 

Jessie. Oh, Gilbert, do not talk like that. You know I love you bet- 
ter than life itself. 

Dark. If that were so, you would be guided by me blindly. But I 
perceive how it is ; you love another, and are but coquetting with me. 
I am in the way; my journey has been for naught. Good-bye! {going 
toii^iird g(tte.) 

Jessie (going after him). Gilbert, I swear to you I love 3"0u alone ! 
But what you ask is terrible. Think of the sacrifice ! 

Dark. To a woman who truly loves a man, no sacrifice she can make 
for his sake, is too great. Jessie, you may take your choice. I love 
yOu, and will make you my wife, but you must come with me to-night 
without a word to any one, or I leave you now, never to return. You 
have your alternative. Choose quickly. 

Jessie {(ifter a menial struggle). Gilbert, I cannot give you up. I 
will do anything you ask. 

Dark, (aside). I thought that would bring her. (nloial) Spoken like 
the brave little girl that you are. Now listen. We have but little time 
to lose. The next train leaves at six; it is now five. In one hour I will 
meet you at the station. Do not fail me, or you will have seen me for 
the last time. 

Jessie. Oh, Gilbert, don't say that ! 

Dark. Mind, above all, don't breathe a syllable to any living soul. 
You can write from the cit.y. AVhy, darling, the minutes will be days 
until I see you again. Good-bye. {enihi-aces her. Jessie exits into 
house. Aside, at back) Tlie house is mine, and I may as well take the 
girl with it. [Exit, c. 

Enter Mrs. Dodge, from house. 

Mrs. D. (solus). I wonder why the alderman hasn't put in an appear- 
ance jet; it's past his time. Ah, a nice man is Lawrence McKeegan ! 
(sighing) Wiiat a fine coni)le we would make ! I wonder why he don't 
pop. It's not for the want of a chance, I'm sure. I take care to 'Ave 
him opportunity enough. But then the alderman is such a shy man. 
(sighing, and going over to hammock and lying in it) Ah me ! I can 



hick'ry farm. 11 

keep the trutli from myself any longer. I have fallen a victim to the 
alderman's charms. I'm in love! Oh, I had just the loveliest dream 
last night. 

Enter McKeegan, at hack, c. 

I dreamed tliat I was a beautiful princess, and was lying asleep in a 
hammock, all of jewels, when suddenly a noble prince appeared, attired 
all in silver and gold. He bent over me and kissed me, and as 1 drank 
in his fragrant breath, I looked up into ids face, and it was none other 
than Alderman McKeegan. Oh, what a sweet breath it was ! {closes 
her ei/es.) 

McKeegan {aside). Larry McKeegan, yer a blackguard if ye spile the 
dislusion. Ye are the prince, an'" yonder lies the beautiful princess. 
Go an' do your duty. {a/)proac/ies Itammock and kisses Mks. D., w/io 
turns the other cheek, which, he a/so kisses. Aloud) Noble princess av 
me heart, accept me 'umble offerin'. 

Mrs. D. {jnvipiiig up). Oh, Alderman, how you frightened me ! 

McK. {aside). Divil a bit friglitened was she a minute ago. 

Mks. 1). And how could you do such a thing ? That's robbery. 

McK. Begorra, I'm an honest thafe, thin. Ilould still a moment. 
{kisses her) There, take thim back ag'in. 

Mrs. D. You naughty man, you ! "How dare you ? But why have you 
not come before now ? 

M(^K. {aside). Faith, I wasn't able, that drunk was I. {aloud) Oh, Mrs. 
Dodge, ye see several avme political friends called to .see me last night 
on affairs concerning the state, {coughs) an' they kept me very busj'. 
We was dlscussin' tiie high tariff on whiskey used for home consumption. 
They left me tiiis mornin' in state. 

Mks. D. In state? 

McK. Yis, {aside) in a stale of intoxication. 

Mils. D. Your state affairs must give you many a headache ? 

McK. Yis, tliat's the truth, {aside) Me head is splittin' every minute. 
{aloud) Yis, a stateman's loife is not an intoiiely liappy one. 

Mrs. D. Yes, especially when he is entirely alone, as you are, with 
no one to confide in, and help you bear the burden of your troubles. 

McK. {aside). Begorra, is she after half av me load ? 

Mrs. D. It's strange. Alderman, how deep an interest I take in you 
and your affairs, {aside) There's a chance for him ! 

McK. {aside). I wish I had tlie courage to ask her about tlie picnic. 

Mks. D. I never felt for any man as I feel for you ! 

McK. {aside). That's sayin' a good dale. She's been matrimomated 
thray toimes before. But now's me toime to spake what's on me moind. 
Oi'U ask her about goin' to the picnic, {n/.oud) Mrs. Dodge, I have a 
requist to make av ye; ye'U excuse me bouldness, but — {aside) How the 
divil shall I ask her ? 

Mrs. D. (aside). It's coming at last, thank goodness ! He's going to 
pop ! {aloud) A request to ask of me? Go on, Mr. McKeegan^ go on; 
it is granted before you ask it. 

McK. I'm not so sure but ye'll not take offence at me bouldness in 
askin' a woman av yer standin' to— to — (fisute) I'll ask her now av I die. 

Mrs. D. {asid''). He is embarrassed, poor fellow ! Why don't he go 
on ? I'm sure some one will spoil it all in a moment, (looks around.) 

McK. Mrs. Dodge — Priscilla— Mrs. Dodge, I mean — I beg yer pardon 
for me bouldness. 

Mrs. D. Not at all, Mr. McKeegan, not at all. {coyly) You may call me 
Priscilla, Lawrence. 



12 hick'ry farm. 

McK. Will, thin, Mrs. Priscilla, ye've been very koind to me durin' 
me sojourney in this counthry, an' I should loike to show ye my appre- 
ciation; an' so av ye'll have nie as — as 

Mits. D. Have you? Of course I will, rather than any other man I 
know, {t/iroirs (d'iiis around litm) Oh, Lawrence, I'm so happy ! 

McK. But ye don't know yet what ye'll have nie for. Ye see, nie \\o- 
litical organization gives a picnic nixt wake, an' I want to know, would 
ye have ine as an escort? 

Mrs. D. (iUsiiuiijed). Have you as an escort? Why, I thought— is that 
all ? 

Mt;K. {aside). All ? Begorra ! what else does she want — a brass 
band ? 

Mrs. D. {going to hammocJc, sohhinc/, aside). Oh, but I see it all ! 
My poor deluded hopes ! And I thougiit he was going to pop. {aloud) 
Oh, Mr. McKeegan, how could you, how could you ? 

McK. {aside). There, now I've done it! Begorra, I knew I'd put me 
fut in it. A a political picnic is no place for a widdy. {aloud) Mrs. Dodge 
— I mane Priscilla — no, I mane Mrs. Podge — Oh, I don't know what I 
mane — I 'unibly beg yer pardon fur shockin' yer nerves. I — I — excuse 
me. I've an important ingagement wid a man in Halifax, Jerusalem, 
or somewhere, {aside) Begorra, I'll make me escape, an' take the nixt 
train for the Sandwich Islands. [ExU, c. 

Enter Fortune, //'o?;? house. 

Fort. I thought I heard something wrong in the pig-pen. Wall, I'll 
be gol-darned ef it ain't Priscilla, makin' a fool of herself, as usual, {goes 
over to /lajnnwe/r.) 

Mrs. D. Oh, Lawrence, if you have not the courage to speak, I must 
forget my maiden modesty for once. Lawrence, my own, I love you ? 
{}iifts arm around Fortune's jieck, irho leans orer hammoci:) I know 
what you would ask ; you want me to be your wife. Is it not so ? 

Fort, {aside). Wall, I'll be gol-darned ef she don't take me for the 
alderman, {aloud) Priscilla, be ye a-goin' daft, a-speakin' such trash ? 

Mrs. D. {starting up). You? Bah ! I tiiought it was the — the 

Fort. The alderman, eh? "Lawrence, I love ye." {lauijJnnij) Wall, 
I'll be gol-darned ef thet ain't the richest joke I ever heard on. (lauglis.) 

Miis. D. {imitatin'j). Ha, ha, ha! Oh, j^es, very funnj', isn't it, seeing 
your poor sister made a fool of ! {aside) And to think the alderman could 
be so ungrateful ! The wretch ! 1 never could see much in that man, 
any how. I hate him ! Only let me set my eyes on him again ! I'll 
give him a taste of my tongue he won't forget in a hurry ! 

[Exit into house. 

Fort. Wall, I'll be gol-darned ef I thort iasanetyness was in the fami- 
ly afore now. [Exit, r. 

Enter Skinner, from honse, with title-deed in hand. 

Sktn. {solus). Yes, here's the deed, sure enough. Had less trouble 
finding it than I expected. Now for the j'oung stranger at the tavern. 
{at gatevay seeing Fortu.^e, irho is still laughing at the joke) That's 
right, old man, enjoy yerself while ye can. Ye won't feel quite so funny 
to-morrow. Zeke Fortune, ye stole the only gal I ever loved from me; 
now I steal yer house. I've waited a long time to get squar' with ye, 
and now my chance has come. We're quits I [Exit, c. 



hick'ry farm, 13 

Fort, {rehirning, still laiig/uuff). She took me for the alderman ! Wall, 
I'll be gol-danied ! {cros.ses and si/s l.) 

Enter Jessie, from house. Pauses on steps ami regards Fortune. 

JiissiE (aside). How happy dad seems to-day— this day of all others ! 
Dear old dad ! How will he feel in one siiort hour, when he linds I am 
-;nne ? Oil, iiow 1 dreatl that thouii;ht! Oh, but all is for tiie best. We 
will be together again very soon; then he will forgive me when he sees 
liow happy I am with Gilbert. Yes, 1 must learn to look at it in that 
light, ii/oes orer to Iter father and puis arms around his ncc/,'. Aloud) 
\Vhat makes my old daddy so happy to-day ? 

Four. Is it you, my little gal ? Why, gal, your old daddy has been 
taken for an alderman just now. Wlio wouldn't be happy at bein' taken 
for au alderman? "Lawrence, I love you!" {faur/hs, then suddeuli/ 
stops and looks i/itentli/ at Jessk;) But now it's my turn to catechise. 
What makes you so unhappy like to-day, gal ? Yoii look as sorrowful 
as a dog that's lost his master. Have you'n Jack been a-sassin' each 
other ? 

Jessie. I am not unhappy, dad. What could have put such a thought 
as that mto your dear oltl head ? 

Fotrr. [strokes hi^r hair and looks at her). As like as one pure white 
lily to another, little one ! 

Jessie. Was she very beautiful, dad. I have such a dim recollection 
of her. 

FoKT. She was wiiat she is now, an angel in heaven ! 

Jessie. But had she been plain, homely, and other than what she was 
you would liave loved her as well ? 

Fort. Little gal, good looks is only as dee]) as the skin; but the soul 
and character of a person is where you must look for true beauty. Her 
character was like a pit without bottom. And tliat reminds me of a 
song Lucy Jane used to sing to me wlien we were first spliced. You 
know it, little one, my favorite. "Believe me, if all those eudeariu' 
young charms," it begins. 

Jessie. Yes, dad, I know it well, {sings.) 

" Believe me, if all tho.-;e endearing young charms, 

AVhich I gaze on so fondly to-day, 
Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms, 

Like fairy gifts fading away. 
Tliou would'st still be adored as this moment thou art 

Let tliy loveliness fade as it will. 
And around tlie dear ruin each wish of my heart 

Would entwine itself verdantly still. 

"It is not whde beauty and youth are thine own, 

And tliy cheeks unprofaned by a tear. 
That the fervor and faith of my soul can be known. 

To which time will make ihee more dear. 
Ah ! tiie heart tliut has truly lov'd never forgets, 

But as truly loves on to the close; 
As the sunllower turns on her god when he sets 
The same look which he turned wiien he rose." 
{Durin;/ song Ymwvsk fnrtireJ ij Irrushes tears from his eijes. .V 
its couclasion Jessie sobs on her father\i knee.) 
Fort. There, there, little one, don't cry. It is a sort o' aflectin' lit'.lo 



14 hick'ry farm. 

tune though. I never hear it but I think o' those happy days when your 
mother was alive. Ah, them was hapi)y days, Jessie ! If she was livin', 
how proud slie'd be o' ii darter lii\e jou, Jess. 

Jk-ssie. Dad, do you believe in the words of that song? 

Fort. As surely as I believe in heaven above. 

Jessie. And no matter how — how — I— I should change, j'ou would 
still love me ? 

FoKT. Jess, ye might turn on yer poor old dad, drive him from yer 
home, an' load him down with curses an' hard words; his old heart 
■wouldn't change towards ye; an' in the hour o' trouble his old arms 
would be the fust to open fur ye. But I'll be gol-darned ef I ain't gettin' 
ez glum an' solemn ez an undertaker. It's a'most timi; for tea. Run 
in now an' help Peggy lay the plates, thafs a good little girl; it 11 sort 
o' liven ye up some'at. (Jessie hhiIIcs s/oiol// toimrds (he duor, stands 
and casts one glance at her father, loid exit into house.) 

Enter 3 \ck, from road, c. 

• Jack. Hello, daddy, how are you getting on to-day ? 

Fort. Pretty tol'able, pretty tol'able, thank'ee, Jack. Jest gettin' 
home from the b;iiik? 

Jack. Yes, and I thought I'd just stop in and see whether you had any 
odd chores you want done, (aside) I wonder where Jessie is ? 

Fort, [aside). I'd jest like to know, now, how it is when young folks 
is in love they can lie so. Now he jest dropped in to get a word with 
Jess, I'll bet. Chores indeed! {aloud) Jack, how is things at the bank ? 
Squar' Smith told me yesterd'y that things wasn't 'zackly what they 
might be. 

Jack. That was only a slight temporary embarrassment. Things 
will be running smoothly again to-morrow. There was im unusual run 
on the bank by dei)ositors, and the ready casii gave out. You need not 
have the slighest uneasiness on that score, {staye ijradaallij grows dark 
as night is coniliig on.) 

Fort. Wall, ye see, Jack, all that I've got in the world is in the 
keepin' o' the bank, an' ef she goes up, I'll hev nothiii' to fall back on 
but this old house, an' it'd break my i)Oor heart to i)art with that. 

Jack. Now don't worry, dadtly ; the Mayville Savings Bank is as solid 
as a rock; notiiing short of embezzlement or robbery could break it. 

Fort. Wall, Jack, I trust ye may be right, my boy; I've got my fears 
though. Ye'U stay to tea. Jack, won't ye ? Of course ye will. I've 
got a couple o' accounts I want ye to straighten up for me any how. 
Come into the house an' I'll show 'em to ye. And as for the bank, I 
don't [E.cit with Jack into house, talking. 

Enter McKeega.v, c, coat collar up, hat over eyes ; he looks around 
carefxdly. 

McK. Nobody in soight. I guess it's safe to vinture back fur a miiiit. 
In me hurry to kape tliat appointment I forgot me cane, {looks for it) 
Where the divil can I have put it? Begorra, what a turn the widdy did 
give me. I never saw a woman have the highsterics before this daj'. I 
wonder where she is. (looks in. at kei/hole) Faix, I haven't the courage 
to knock, (door suddenly opens and Mrs. Dodge enters.) 

Mrs. D. (starting hack). Oh, a man! A burglar! Good Heavens! 
Oh, Mr. Burglar, I won't scream. Please don't molest me. Here's my 
purse, my earrings, everything; here, take them, but don't harm a poor 
defenceless creature like me. (on knees.) 



HICK KY FARM. 15 

McK. (aside). Be<2;orr;i, I'll have me revinge now fur tlie freight she 
gave me. (afond) It's not yer jew'ls I want, but revinge. Blood ! blood ! 
Prepare to die! {serio-trcgic-dir.) 

Alus. D. Oh, dear, kind, good Mr. Burglar, what have I done that you 
should seek such a terrible vengeance ? 

McK. {aside). Faix, Oi'U lay it on strong! {aloud) Listen an' I'll tell 
ye. But a few hours since, the noblest man the world has iver seen, 
me best fri'nd, Aldernum Larry McKeegan, left me in the Ijest of he:dth 
an' sperits. (aside) Especially the sperits. (alond) Now his body dangles 
from ihe limb of a tree in yonder grove, an' the wind is blowin' his 
gintle form to an' fro. 

MiiS. D. (ic/io during this entire scene has not looked at McKeegan). 
Lawrence — Alderman McKeegan —dead ? 

McK. Yis, madam; driven to infanticide by your croquetry. Ye re- 
fused to go to tlie picnic wid him, an it broke his heart. Even while 
I'm spakin' I can hear the warm summer zephyrs as they softly meander 
througli his evergreen whiskei-s, a-playin' tag wid his coat-tails. Oh, 
the tliougiit brings tears to me eyes ! 

Mks. D. Oh, what iiave I done ! what have I done ! Tell me that you 
are in jest — that it is not true ! 

McK. Alas ! woukl tliat I could say otherwise. Never again will the 
silvery accents of his swate voice tickh; your ears, nor the fragrance 
of his breath swaten the atmosphere I Killed by you, cruel woman ! 
Dead ! dead ! 

Miis. Oh, Lawi-ence, Lawrence, come back to your Priscilla ! 

McK. {asidi^). Begorra, Oi've been dead long enough, an' now Oi'U 
risurrict mesiif, an' till her wid joy ! (alond) Priscilla, me loife, look up 
into me oyes an' behold before ye, alive an' well, Larry McKeegan ! 

Mrs. D. You! you! 

McK. Forgive me slight deceiition, Priscilla; 'twas but a ruse of love. 

Mils. D. You! you! And I thought it was a burglar! Oh, it's too 
bad, it's too bad ! How could you make such a fool of me ? (sobs hys- 
terica////. Crosses to i,.) 

McK. (aside). Begorra, she's gettin' into the highsterics again ! Oh, 
Lord ! what shall Ido ? what sliall I do ? If tliey hear her in the house 
they'll think she's bein' kilt intoirel}'. Oh, Lord ! (alond) Oh, Priscilla, 
me own, I 

Mijs. D. (sohl)ing). Don't Priscilla me, j'ou miserable man — you, you 
insiduous wretch — you, you monster — you, you — Oh ! oh ! (.sobbing.) 

McK. (nervous basiiiess. Enns frantical/// from Pkiscilla, ifho 
seats her.'^elf in hainnwclr, to the hoii-fe, gesllcniafing irild///). For the 
love av Hivin, Mrs. Dodge, listen to rason. It was all a joke; I swear 
it. (aside) Av Oi iver git out av this aloive, Oi'U swear off women in- 
toirely. 

Mus. D. You're a mean, contemptible thing, that's what ye are ! 

McK. Oi'm not, Priscilla; Oi 

Mrs. D. How dare you contradict me ? You are ! 

McK. Priscilla, jer roight; Oi'm inything. Oi 

Mrs. D. Oh, what a fool I am ! 

McK. Yer roight, yer roight! No, yer wrong, yer wrong; av course 
yer wrong. 

Mrs. D. Insult added to injury ! Oh, that I should have lived to see 
this day ! Oli, I wish 1 was dead ! 

McK. So do Oi, so do Oi ! 

Mrs. D. Oh, how can you say it? 

McK. Oi didn't mane that; Oi maned — oh, Oi don't know what Oi 



16 hick'ry farm. 

mane, Oi'm that disthracted. (asitle) AxV there's some one comin'; I'll 
swear it. Oh, Lord ! Oh, Lord ! Oi'm good for a breech av promise. 
(aloud) Oh, Priscilla, how can ye vex me so, whin ye Ivuow Oi love ye ? 
{goi's lip lo Iter ami 2^nts his ami around her tcaist ; she offers no oiqio- 
sitiou) Oh, Priscilla, me loife, forgive me; it was but a plan to discover 
wlietiier ye cared for me. Oi see ye do. Ah, don't attimpt to deny it. 
Oi know it. Priscilla, me own, 01 love .ye ! Will ye marry me ? 

iMi:.i. D. (aside). This is more like business. 

McK. Priscilla, loife widout ye wouldn't be worth livin'. Say ye for- 
give me. 

Mks. D. I have nothing to forgive, Lawrence. I knew it was you all 
the time. 

M(;K. (aside). For an iligiint, first-class, double-bristed liar, recom- 
mind me a v\d dy ! 

Mus. D. And you do love me, Lawrence ? 

Mv,K. Love, me own? 'Tis more than love; 'tis disthraction. Romeo's 
love for Juliet coukln't hould a candle to the affiction I fale for ye ! 

Mrs. D. What a lovely sentiment ! Ah, what a noble Romeo you 
would make, Lawrence ! 

McK. Ah, Priscilla, me own, av Romeo had discovered ye before he 
met Juliel, Juliet would have died an ould maid ! 

Mrs. D. I would love to play Juliet to your Romeo. 

McK. Av ye'U just walk into the parlor wid me, an' turn the loights 
down, well rehearse the balcony scane. Oi'U guarantay to make j'e 
perfect it fifteen minutes. Lade the waj' — Oi follow. 

[They exit into house. 

Elder Jessik, stealtJiibi, from house, hooded and cloaked, satchel in 
hand. Stage darkened. Slow music, piano. 

Jessie (.so?/^s). I have slipi^ed out thus far unobserved ! Oh, how I 
detest this base subterfuge, this stealing away like a tliief in the night ! 
But Gilbert said it was for the best, and I must be guided by him blind- 
ly, he is so noble and so good. These few lines will explain all I dare 
tell, (drops note) Farewell, daddy ! Forgive your little girl this decep- 
tion. We shall meet again very "soon, for Gilbert promised me that. I 
will return to you liappy, oh, so happy ! (sobbing at gale) Farewell, 
daddy, farewell! [Exit, c. 

Enter, from house, Jack and Fortune, with lantern. 

Jack. Well, goodnight, daddy; I must be going. 

Four. Wall, tlion, ef ye won't stay to tea, good-night to ye. Jack, my 
boy. I'll jest take a look in at the barn an' see thet all's right for the 
night. [Oros'^es stage and e.vit, l. 

Jack (snlus. Music, very loir). Why is it that Jessie so studiously 
avoids me ? She barely noticed me to-night. Wi)at can I have done 
to displease her ? And I had so fondly hoped that some day she might 
be my wife. Alas ! such happiness is not for poor Jack Nelson. Ever 
since her return from the city her manner towards me has changed en- 
tirely. Can it be that she has lost her heart to one of those sweet- 
tongued city chains ? But no; Jessie is too honest to have a secret from 
her old playfellow. To-morrow I sliall speak to her. I must have an 
explanation. Ah, well, there's no chance of seeing her again to-night, 
I might as well be going, (goes toivard gate, c.,H/ids letter and picks 
it vp) Hello, what's this ? Somebody must have lost it. Jessie's 



hick'ry farm. 17 

writing, as I live! Great Heavens ! wliat can this mean ? {ppe)is ami 
rends.) 

"Dear Dad — Forgive your little girl for what she is about to do. I 
must leave you, dad, for a short time. Believe me, I go witiroiie in 
whose honor and integrity I can safely trust. I will explain all later. 
"Your loving daughter, Jessik." 

My God ! Eloped ! Jessie, my darlhig, gone with another ! Oh, Heaven 
help me ! I'm choking I {fdi/its. Fortune is heard outside whisUin'j 
"Believe me, if all those endearing young charms." 

Enter Fortune, l., with Imitern, still wliistling. 

Fort. Somehow or other that tune keeps runnin' through my head. 
I nmst ask Jess to sing it again for me, arter tea. {(/oes to irard house 
(Did stnml>les over J.ack) Jehusifet ! wlio's tiiet ? Jack, by jingo ! sound 
asleej). JacJv, my boy, I say Jack ! {shnkinr/ him) Wake up! ye'll be 
ketchin' yer death o' cold. He's fainted ! Jehusifet ! {adliny) Jessie ! 
Priscilla! Peggy! Some water, quick ! Jack's fainted ! (.s7op «j«.vic. 
Bri)iyinr/-to business.) 

Elder, from house, Mrs. Dodge and McKeegan. 

Mrs. D. What's the matter, Zek'l ? 

Fort. Some water, quick ! Jack Nelson's fainted dead away ! (McK. 
fetches water. Bringing-to tnisiness. Jack comes to.) 

jACKifeehfy. Music, rer)/ low). Gone! Gone! My God! Gone! 
Oil, Jessie, come back to me ! 

Fort. Jessie gone ! What d'ye mean. Jack ? 

Jack (showinr/ letter). Read ! I found tiiis here but a moment since. 
I trust it is not yet too late. She must be stopiied ! (Fortune takes let- 
ter, puts on spectacles, Priscilla holds lantern.) 

Fort. Jessie's writin', by jingo ! (7-ertcis.) 

" Dear Dad — Forgive your little girl for what siie is about to do. I 
must leave you, dad, for a short time. Believe me, I go witli one in 
whose honor and integrity I can safely trust. I will explain all later. 
" Your loving daughter, Jkssie." 

(Sinks hack on bench, supported hij Pia.snii,L,\ and Jack) My little lamb 
gone ! gone ! Stolen from her old dad ! OIi. God ! give me strength to 
bear it ! Gone ! gone ! My Jess ! Father in heaven, I i)ray you watdi 
over my gal, watch over her ! Bring lier back to me unsullied, untainted 
by the world's evil ! Gone! gone \(sotis on Jack's shoulder, Priscilla 
bending over him, McKeeoan sadly watching.) 

K. McKeegan. Jack. Fortune. Priscilla. l. 



18 hick'ry faem. 

ACT n. 

Eighteen montlis are supposed to have elapsed between Acts I. and 11. 

Slow music for curtain after ovei'ture. 

SCENE. — Fortune's shanty. A poorly-fur nished interior, cracked 
walls, etc. Fortune discovered seated at fireplace as curtain rises. 

Fort, (solns). It's time Jack got back. Wonder what is keepin' him. 
Poor boy ! I hope he's found a job, for Squar' Darkwood said ef the rent 
warn't paid tliis week, out we'd go. {coughs) My, but it's cold ! 'Pears 
to me I need a new coat. Ah, times is changed seuce my poor Jess 
was stole from me. Not a word has she sent me from that day lo this. 
How like a horrible dream it all seems ! Hick'ry Farm was took from 
nie. They tole me I owed 'Riah Skinner money. I never owed a cent 
to any man, 'n I tole 'em so. But 'Riah swore he was right, 'n showed 
'em a receipt 'n the title-deed o' Hick'ry Farm ; an' so they tole me I 
must get out. Then the Mayville Bank was robbed, 'n it went up, 'n all 
my hard-earned savin's went with it. They accused my Jack o' the rob- 
bery, but o' course ther warn't no proof to hold him on. An' now the 
linger o' scorn is p'inted at him, 'n he can earn no money to keep us 
alive. Oh, that I might awake 'n tind it all a dream ! My God ! what 
have I done that I should be so punished ? 

Enter Jack, o., at back. Stands and regards Fortune. Slate music. 

Jack (aside). Weeping again, poor old man ! How my heart bleeds 
for him. And no luck, as usual. Why is fate so cruel to us ? How can 
I tell daddy that I return empty handed ? {coming forward. Aloud) 
Dad<ly ! 

Fokt. Ah, is it you, Jack, my boy ? 

Jack. Dadd.y, you are cold; your hands are numb. 

Fort. Would it were tiie coldness of death. 

Jack. No, no, daddy, you must not talk like tliat. {takes offcont and 
rrraps it around Fortune, or hi^lps Iiiin on iiv'th it) There, take my 
coat; my young blood is warmer than yours. There now, does that feel 
better? (seats himself at Fortune's /ee/.) 

Fort. How kin I ever repay ye. Jack, for the kindness ye've shown 
me ? May God bless ye, may God bless ye ! 

Jack. Daddy, j'ou owe me nothing. It is I who am your debtor. 
Who was it took care of the poor little waif. Jack Nelson, when, bereft 
of father and mother, he was cast upon the mercies of the world ? Who 
watched over his earlier years with fatlierly care ? You, daddy, you ! 
Gotl be thanked that he has granted me the opportunity for repaying 
what is not alone a debt of gratitude, but a duty. 

Enter, c, during above speed), Darkwood, handsomeb/ attired, silk 
hat, fur overcoat, etc. He stands regarding tlie two, a cynical 
smile on his lips. 

Dark, [at conclusion of Jack's speech). When you two have finished 
your sentimental nonsense, may be you'll listen to a few words from me. 
(Fortune and Jack stai-i up) Well, have you the rent you promised me? 



hick'ry farm. 19 

Fort. Squar', times hez gone hard with U3, an' 

Dark. Bah ! The same old stoiy every time I come. Do j'ou mean 
to tell me that two such able-bodied men as yon and that fellow there, 
are unable between you to earn a mere pittance of rent ? If you would 
do less moaning and sighing, you might be able to pay your honest 
debts. 

Fort. An' so they shall be paid, every penny o' them. Only a little 
patience, Squar', is all I ask. Jack here, poor boy, searches fur some- 
thin' to do every day o' his life, but luck's ai;'in him. An' ez fur me, 
I'm not the hale an' liearty man I was a year ago, afore mj' — my 

Dark, (iiiten-iipiiu;/). Before your daughter ran od" with that hand- 
some city chap, eh ? By Jove ! I can't half blame her, if this is the sort 
of life you led her. No wonder she sought the gay dissipations of the 
city — the life of an adventuress and 

Fort, {interrupting). Stop thar, Squar' ! Stop thar ! Heap all yer 
hard words on me; call me what ye will, I kin bear it; but, rich an' 
powerful ez ye are, dare to utter one slander ag'in my gal Jess, an' old 
an' feeble though I be, I'll force the lyin' words down yer throat ! My 
gal Jess, wherever she may be, is as innocent an' honest as she is beau- 
tiful. Sorrer hez hardened my heart ag'in every subjec' butthet; so 
beware, Squar', beware what ye say. 

Dark. Any pity, which I might have felt for you, j'our words have 
prevented. Mark me, if by six o'clock to-night yow rent is not forth- 
coming, out you go, bag and baggage. Your insolence deserves a 
rei^rimand, and were it not for your gray hairs, a blow would be my 
answer. 

Jack (cominr/ fnnonrd to c). Well, then, Gilbert Darkwood, the 
words uttered by Mr. Fortune are my sentiments also. Come, give me 
your answer; m>i hairs are not graj'. {looks fiercely at Darkwood.) 

Dark, {insolently). How dare yon speak to an honest man ? 

Jack {fiercely). What do you mean ? {faking a stfp nea>-er.) 

Dark, {nonchalantly, icithout lookinr/ at Jack). Exactly what I say. 
A thief and scoundrel has not the right to approach a gentleman, much 
less to 

Jack {interrupting). You have uttered a deliberate falsehood, and 
you know it ; and this {striking him) is my answer, you coward, {stands 
for a moment fearlessly facing Darkwood, then to Fortune) Come, 
daddy, honest men should not breathe the atmosphere polluted by the 
presence of such a dastardly villain. {Tlwy exit into room, n. 

Dark, {solus). The young scam)), I will make him suffer for this if I 
have to move heaven and earth to do so. Gilbert Darkwood is not the 
man to be trifled with, as he will find to his sorrow ! (paces stage.) 

Enter Skinner, c. to L. 

Skinner, you here ! Well, what do j'ou want ? 

Skin. Squar', I've been huntin' ye high'n low. I've got a bit o' news 
to tell ye as'll startle ye some'at. 

Dark, {impatiently). Well, what is it? 

Skin. There be a New York detective hore a-lookin' up the Mayville 
Bank robbery, an' I he;irn tell thet he had found some new evidence. I 
want to put ye on yer guard, Squar', that's all. 

Dark. Hush ! {looking ((round) For Heaven's sake, hush ! 

Skin. Wall, there's no tellin' what might be discovered. These New 
York fellows be pretty spry, I toll ye. 

Dark. What sort of a looking man is this detective ? 



20 hick'ry farm. 

Skin. "Wall, he's tall, thin, an' altogether som'at of a swell. 

Dark. Detective Sergeant Rankin, of the Central Office, as I live! 
The only man on the force I am afraid of. He knows me ! Yet, in my 
present rircumstances, 1 doubt whether he would recognize Raljih 
Douglas, the forger and bank thief. {Uinglis) However, Skinner, it would 
never do to run any chances, for that man is as keen-eyed as a lynx; 
he never fails to land his game. We must outwit him, come what may. 

Skin. We ! What hev I to do with it ? 

Dark. What have you to do with it? Whj', fool 

Skin, {iiiterri(pfinij). Yes; did I hev a hand in the bank robbery? 

Dark. Curse you! No, you coward; you backed down at the last 
moment, and I had to do it myself. 

Skin. Well, then, Squar', what hev I to do with it ? 

Dark. Were I trai)ped, I could easily implicate you as an accomplice. 

Skin. An' I hev taken good care to be able to jn-ove a' alibi. 

Dark. Bah ! Enough of this. It must not come to that. This de- 
tective must be put on a wrong scent. 

Skin. An' what do you propose to do ? 

Dark. Skinner, there is but on way to throw this fellow on the wrong 
scent. We must cast suspicion upon another, and thus save ourselves. 
That impudent rascal. Nelson, is the man upon whom suspicion would 
rest if rightly directed. Indeed, I have heard more than one person say 
that Nelson knew more about the robbery than he pretended to. Once 
cast popular suspicion upon him, and our task is acconii)iislied. 

Skin. Yes ; but how do ye mean to lix the guilt on him ? Whar's yer 
proofs ? 

Dark. There is exactly where I require your aid. You must swear 
out an affidavit that on the night of the robbery you saw Nelson hang- 
ing about the vicinity of the bank in a suspicious manner. To explain 
your silence until now, you can say that your love for old man Fortune 
tied your tongue. But what's the matter with you ? 

Skin, (facing Darkwood, and look i tig fearlessly at him, speaks in a 
determined tone). Squar' Darkwood, there's much the matter with me, 
ez ye shall hear. It's nigh onto a year an' a half sence ye tempted me 
by means of your cussed gold, to rob my old friend Zeke Fortune of all 
he possessed on airth. that act of mine made you rich, Squar"; a re- 
spected man in the community; but it made me the most miserable 
man on the face of the airth. Sence that day my conscience has given 
me no peace. While the money ye gave me fur my share in the transac- 
tion made me respected an' looked up to by my neighbors, in my secret 
heart I despised myself, an' I swore I'd make restitution to Zeke some 
day, an' so I will. After what I hev just said, do ye thiidv, Squar', I'd 
do any more of yer dirty work ? No ; let me die first ! 

Dark, (fercelji). What! you old fool! would you betray me? 

Skin. Betray you? No; fur there should be honor even among 
thieves, (slight pause) But sooner than stan' by an' see that young man 
dragged down to the level of a common thief, I'll tell all I know !' 

Dark. What ! you infernal idiot ! you would ruin me ! (seizes Skinner 
by the throat — sfrngglt^ — Skinner sinks to his knees) Curse you ! Let 
one syllable of what you know cross your li))s, and I swear I'll throttle 
you, if I have to swing for it ! Come, your answer ; will you keep my 
secret ? 

Skin. For heaven's sake, take yer hand away ! 

Dark. Not until j'ou answer me. Quick ! 

Skin. I'll keep your secret; I svear it ! 

Dark, {releasing him). Ha! I thought that would bring you to 



hick'ry farm. 21 

term . Now, mark me, that contemptible puppy, Nelson, must be 
convicted, on your affidavit, or by heaven I'll strangle you ! {walks to 
dour, c, ?//rj«ce.s «< Skinner, who is stil on floor, ami exit.) 

SkI'. {rises, goes to door c, and stands looking off). And now mark 
me, Gilbert Darkwood, I'll frustrate your schemes ef it costs me my 
life I {Exit, c, D. 

Enter Jack, r. d. Puts on hat and muffler while speaking. 

Jack {solus). Something must be done at once, or to-niglit we will be 
without shelter. I'll see Squire Smith, Probably he will assist us. 

[Kcit, L. D. 
Enter Jessie, c. d. Slow music. 

Jessie {coming down, slowly). Home again, thank Heaven ! Home ! 
Ah, what comfort that simple word brings to me ! At last I am with 
daddy once again I But has he forgiven me ? Oh ! shoukl he spurn, 
or refuse to recognize me, it would kill me! But no; I distinctly re- 
member his words on that fatal day, "Jess, ye might load me down 
with hard words, but in the hour of your trouble my okl arms would 
be the first to open to you." Dear old daddy, how miserably I have re- 
paid all your goodness! {sohs. Flute is heard playing "Believe me, if 
all those endearing young charms." Jessie listens, startled) I sang 
that to daddy on that last day ! {sobs.) 

Enter Fomvsv:, r. d., with flute. 

Fort. Thet old tune awakens mem'ries in me which most drives me 
mad. Ah, well I remember the last time I sung thet tune, with my 
innocent little Jess kneelin' beside me, a-cryin' as ef her heart would 
break. Oh God ! I pray you send my darlin' gal back to me ! Ah, 
some day she will come; I feel it; I'm sure on't. 

Jessie {coming foncard). Daddy, your trust has not been misplaced; 
I am here, home, home again ! 

Fort. Jessie ! Jessie, my little gal, come back to me ! Oh, the Lord 
be praised ! the Lord be praised ! (xoJthiug in each others arms.) 

Jessie. Oh, daddy, can you forgive the wrong I did you? 

Four. Forgive you, my pet? Why, ther's nothin' to forgive. Oh, 
Jess, it do feel so natural to have ye near me again ! Wiiy, Jess, j'er 
old daddy could git right up 'n dance a reg'lar breakdown, he's so hap- 
py ! An' mebbe Jack won't be delighted ! 

Jes-sie. Jack, poor fellow ! 

Fort. Jess, Jack's a brick, thet's what he is ! He's stuck to me all 
through my troubles, like a Good Samaritan. 

Jessie. Like the good fellow he always was, bless him ! Too late did 
I perceive his worth. It was only after my experience with that villain, 
Darkwood, that I 

Fort, {interrupting). Darkwood ? Darkwood ? My God ! Child, it 
can't be the squar' — Gilbert Darkwood ? 

Jicssie. Daddy, he alone is to blame for all the troublesome past ! 
Listen, daddy. I met him wlion I visited Nettie Foster, in the city, last 
winter, and he beguiled m(> into believing that ho loved me. God help 
me! I felt convinced tliat he spoke tlie tnitii. I next met him on that 
awful day of over a year ago. Would to heaven that fate had been less 
cruel. He entreated me to My witli him, and be married in the city on 
the following day. In my blindness, 1 listened to liis lying words, and 



22 hick'ry farm. 

fled with him to the city. Ere we reached our destination I had dis- 
covered my blunder, and my eyes were opened to the enormity of what 
I had done. Shame overwhelmed me; I knew not wliat to do; but I 
determined to leave Darkwood as soon as we reached the depot; and so 
I did. While his attention was engrossed with a hackman, I hastily 
slipped away; and, thank God, I have not seen him from that day to 
this ! 

Fort. The villainous rascal ! My poor child ! 

Jessie. Daddy, I was so tilled with shame that I could not bring my- 
self to look into your honest face, and I dared not return home. I found 
employment at a milliner's, and there I plodded my way along, barely 
making a living, until but one short month ago, when mere chance 
brought me in "contact with uncle Larry and Aunt Priscilla, who had 
just returned from Europe. Then I broke down completely, and until 
a week ago I was unable to leave my bed. Oh, daddy, words cannot 
describe now I yearned for home and you all those weary, weary months! 
Then aunt Priscilla determined that I should surprise you ; and, daddy, 
here /am, and they will be here presently. Oh, daddy, they have been 
so good to me ! 

Fort. May God bless them for it ! May God bless them for it ! 

Jessie. Daddy, dear old daddy, tell me once again that you forgive 
your little Jess, and love her as well as of old ! 

Fort. Jessie, ye're dearer to me than ever, insomuch ez I came so 
near losin' ye ! 

McKeegan {onlxidf). This is the house. Priscilla, me loife, come on ! 

Jessie. Here they are now! that's uncle Larry's voice, {opens door.) 

Enter McKeegan and Priscilla, c. d. 

McK. Here we are, Jessie ! Why, Zeke, how are ye ? how are ye ? 
{shake hands.) 

Fort. Alderman, it be a long time sence we met; how be ye! An' 
you, Priscilla? 

Priscilla. Zek'l, my poor brother ! (embraces hivi.) 

McK. {after n short pause). Foine ! Break away to yer corners ! 

Fort. Wall, I do declar' to goodness gracious me, it does my old 
heart good to see ye once more ! How kin I ever thank ye for the 
kindness ye've shown to my little gal ? God bless ye both ! God bless 
ye both ! 

Priscilla, We did no more than our dutj^ Zek'l; so say no more 
about that. And so this is your home ? {looks about) What a wretched 
place ! 

Fort. Wall, it isn't 'zackly Hick'ry Farm, I'll give in, but for a poor 
man 

McK. Begorrc, a man oughtn't to be poor long, livin' here. 

Priscilla. Now what do you mean by that, love ? 

McK. Why, sure, me own darlint, because it's so draughty ! 

Priscilla (aside). Now what a delightful pun that is ! Ah, that man 
is so witty ! (aloud, after an admirinrf look at McKeegan) Poor Zeke ! 
how you must have suffered ! Squire Smith told us all about it down 
at the station. But why did you never answer my letters ? 

Fort. Where was the good of botherin' others with my trouble ? 

Jessie. Trouble, daddy ! Henceforth may that word have no place 
in the vocabulary of the Fortune family. 

Fort. Amen to that, little one ! 

MoK. Begoira, Zeke, ye may well say amin to that; for as long as 



hick'ry farm. 23 

Larry McKeegan has the price av a whiskey toddy in his pocket, be- 
gorra, the half av it is yours ! {s(rike.s attitude, and then appears to 
converse witk Foutune.) 

Pkiscilla (aside tu Jessie, rapturously). How touching a sentiment! 
"What a noble man he is ! Oh, Jessie, how I love that man ! I never 
thought my old heart capable of feeling for any one as I do for him. Tell 
me candidly, Jessie, do you think he reciprocates my atlection ? 

Jessie. Why, aunt, does not his every action justify that belief? 

Priscilla. Ah, Jessie, I have my doubts nevertheless; the alderman 
is such a terrible llirt ! 

Jessie. Aunt, how can you think of such a thing ? 

Pkiscilla. Well, my suspicions are not entirely groundless. It was 
only the other day a mysterious individual called on the alderman, and 
unintentionally I overlieard part of their conversation. It was about a 
woman, and her name was— let me see— Helen, yes, Helen Blazes. 

Jessie. Aunt, uncle Larry is the most devoted of husbands; you 
must not let such a thought enter your head. Come, no more of this 
foolishness; let us take a look about the house. 

{Exit Jessie, r. As Priscilla is about to leave, McKeegan kisses 
hand to her. 

Priscilla {at door, aside, sighi7ig). Ah, with ail his faults, I love liim 
still ! [Exd, R. 

McK. {coming down with Fortune). Zek'l, I bless the day that I laid 
oyes on Prisciily ! Sure, it's a darlint little woife she is — as true an' 
handsome a woman as iver stood in two shoes. 

Fort. Wall, now, by gosh ! why shouldn't she be ? She's my sister ! 

McK. Bedad, Zeke, it's as good as drinkin' a barrel of whiskey to see 
ye talkin' an' actin' loike the loiglit-hearted Zek'l I used to know ! 

Fort. Happy ain't the word, Larry — I'm more'n that. I'll be gol- 
darned ef I don't jest feel like standin' on my hands an" puttin' my feet 
up ag'in the wall, as 1 used to when I was a boy. Happy ! Jehusefet ! 
Excuse me one minute ; I can't help it — my feelin's is gettin' the best of 
me. {(joes to back of stage and executes a pas-seul) There ! (coming 
down) I feel better now. 

McK. Bedad, ye dance loike a young buck ! 

Fokt. Oh, I could allers hold my own at dancin'. 

McK. {conjidentiallj/). Zeke, are ye able to kape a still tongue in yer 
head ? (Fortune nods) Then Oi'll tell ye av a bit av a surprise Oi've ar- 
ranged for Priscilly's birthday, nixt wake, {looks around cautiously) 
What d'ye think now Oi've bought her ? 

Fort. Dunno. Can't say. 

McK. A pony and village cart ! 

Fort. No ? Do tell ! JHev ye ? 

McK. It's a mare, an' the swatest little animal je iver sot ojes on. 
(Pris(;illa opens door, r., and loo/cs /)i) Her hair's as soft as flax, and 
her big brown oyes are beautiful to behold. 

Priscilla {aside). Who can Larry be talking about? 

Fort. Gosh ! she must be a fine one. What's her name ? 

McK. Sure it's the most comical name ye iver heard av. Faith, slie's 
called Hell an' Blazes ! {hoth laugh.) 

Priscilla (aside). That woman again ! Oh, I knew I was right — 
Lawrence is not true to me; he loves that miserable huzzy, Helen 
Blazes ! 

McK. An' ye should see her legs ! — straight an' smooth as an arrow, 
an' the smallest fut ye iver saw ! 



24 hick'ky farm. 

Priscilla (asidn). Oh, the deceitful wretch ! That I should have put 
my implicit trust in such a man ! Oh, I hate— I detest — I — I abominate 
him ! 

McK. Oi'll be afther bringin' her down here nixt wake. 

Fort. Why, yes, good ! Do, an' we'll take her out together. 

Priscilla {aside). And you too, Zek'l ! Oh, you two bald-headed 
hypocrites ! 

Fort. Jewhittiker ! but Priscilla will be surprised. Air ye shure she 
suspects nothin' ? 

McK. Oh, Oi took good care to kape her in the dark. She's as un- 
suspectin' av what's goin' on behind her back as a new-born choild. 

Priscilla (aside). Oh, I can stand this no longer ! {dashiiig open the 
door and coming dou-n. Aloud) It is false ! false ! Base, perfidious 
man, I know all ! {strikes attitude.) 

Fort, {aside to MoKeegan). She's heard all about the surprise ye in- 
tend givin' her, an' it seems to hev vexed her. 

McK. {aside). Vexed! Hivin detind us from her anger, if she is only 
vexed now ! {aloud) Priscilly, me own, what 

Priscilla. Do not advance another step, j'ou monster! You — .you 
human Mephistopheles ! You — you miserable man ! I hate you, and 
never want to see your face again ! Oh, that my love should have had 
so shameful a return ! {paces stage, gesticulaliiig franticallij. Fortune 
and McKeegan /ieep pace o)i eacli side of tier, vainli/ endeavoring to 
pacify Iter. SJie talces no notice of tliem) Oh, what a fool I was to think 
that that miserable man loved me, when all the while I was but a mere 
dupe, a toy in his hands, to be tossed about at his will ! Oh, let me 
but once lay hands on that shameless woman, and I'll scratch her eyes 
out ! I'll show Helen Blazes what sort of a woman she has to deal 
with. Oh, my young life is ruined ! ruined ! Oh ! 

\E,cit, sobbing, e. McKeegan and Fortune contiyiue to loalk np 
and down as ttiongli Priscilla xcere still with them, then they 
stop and look at eacli otJier. 

Fort. Larry McKeegan, yer a fool ! 

McK. Zeke, I know it. It come natheral to me. I was born that 
way! 

Fort. Now, that woman is jest laborin' under some orful delusion, 
an' et's your duty, ez her husband, to find oTit what's wrong. 

McK. * But, Zeke, whin Priscilly is excited the divil himsilf couldn't 
rason wid her. 

Fort. Larry, et's your duty to find out, an' the sooner the better. 

McK. But, Zeke, ye don't know Priscilly; whin she's in one av her 
tantrums, begob, she's dangerous. 

Fort. Larry McKeegan, kin it be possible that j'er afraid of a weak, 
harmless woman ? {laughs. McKeegan assumes an air of injured in- 
nocence.) 

McK. Afraid, did j'^e say ? Alderman McKeegan, av the tinth ward, 
afraid av a woman! {forced laugh) Ha, ha, ha! Ye make me laugh. 
Watch me now, while I beard the lioness in her den. {goes toward door 
'With assumed coin-age, ivhisthng. At door he hesitates, looks back at 
Zeke, icho motions him on) By the way, Zeke, before Oi forgit it, Oi've 
the best joke ye 

Fort. This is no time fur jokes; pacify yer wife first. Go along now! 

MoK. But, ye — (Zeke cuts him short by a motion) Will, thin, since 
ther's no hiip for it. here goes! [Sighs, dashes open door, and exit, r. 

Fort, {solus). I declare to goodness gracious me, but wimmin is the 



hick'ey farm. 25 

complexiest macMues ever invented, {knock at dooi\ c) Hello, who 
may tliet be ? ('joes to door axd opi'us it.) 

A'//ter Rankin, o. d. 

Howd'y do, stranger? What can I do fur ye ? 

Rankin. Mr. Fortune, IbeUeve? 

Fort. Thet's me. 

Rank. Mr. Fortune, mj ivaure is Rankin— Detective Ranlun, of tlie 
Central Ottice, New York city. Allow me, without any furtlier prelimi- 
nary words, to enter upoji tlie object of my visit. Mr. Fortune, for 
sometime past 1 liave been employed by the officers of the Majville 
Savings Bank in sJiadowiug an ex-convict, whom I susi>ecte<l of the 
crime — one Ra]i)h Douglas, an exi>eit bank thief and forger. After a 
careful investigation of tlie fads in tJie ease, aini assisted l3y the confes- 
sion of a former accomj>lice, there is no doubt m. my mind that I have 
my man safely cornered. He is as slipperj' as an eel, Iwwever, and 
should he get wind of anytliing, all would l>e lost. Mr. Fortune, it is 
witli your assistance that he must be eiitrapi>eil. 

Four. With n)3- assistanoe ? I don^t understated y^. 

Rank. When I contide to you the name of my intended prisoner, you 
will be better able to comprehend me. Ralph Douglas, the bank thief 
and forger, and Gilbert Daiiwood, tlie ridi and respectable gentleman, 
are the same i)erson 1 

FoKj'. Ye alinof-l take uiy bi-eath away with siin)iise; an' yit it 
oughtn't to, fui- 1 know thet man to be tl»e nwst blaek-feearted scoundrel 
on the face of this aiith. 

Rank. Your reasons for thinking so will be strengthened when you 
hear what I have to say fiuther. But this is ko place for such disclos- 
ures as I have to make ; we detectives aiLsti-ast the veiy walls. Have 
you no more secludetl room than this ? 

FoKT. Why, yes; jest walk in ther; (^weVi^/w^ l.) ye can si:»eak yer 
mind ther without fear of intrusion. 

Rank. Very well; let us enter. iRceunt, v. 

Enter, c, Ja<uc. Commi dovcn and^Us at table. 

Jack {sohin-). That is accomplished ! To-night, in case we are driven 
from this shelter, tliere will be at least a roof to cover us, even tJiough 
it be the poor-house roof. The poor-house ! With what repugnance 
the very mention of that word fills me ! Oli, tliat we should be driven 
to take such a step ! (I'-ls head fall on /lis arm ou table. Emotion,) 

Enter Jessie, ». 

Jessie {asxH. It seems to me I liear some one sobbing, {.wf: Jack) 
Jack ! Great Heavens ! how changed ! Weeping ! Poor fellow 1 poor 
fellow ! (calls) Jack ! Jack \ , . . « 

Jack {looking up, sloirln). That voice ! Jessie's ! Am I dreamnig ? 
(rise.K and looks vacnnfli/ about lam, sees Je.^sie) Jessie ! Is it possible ? 
Oh, mv loved one ! (pw/'»vic«.) . . 

Jessie. Jack, can it then indeed be true that you do not despise me . 

Ja(;k. Howcftuld such a dreadful thought liavc entered your Iread? 
True love, my darling, is an nndving aft'ection, not a mere butterfly 
fancy, changing with every caprice. I love you now as I loved you in 
those good old days gone past, and as I sludl couUnue to love \ ou for 
all time. 



26 hick'ry farm. 

Jessie. Jack, I do not deserve so noble, so true a love as j^ours. 

Jack. You must not say that, pet. Why, darling, in my eyes you are 
worthy of the homage of a king. All, Jessie, it looks so natural to see 
you about again. 

Jessie. Jack, darling, we shall never part again; promise me that. 

Jack. I pray God, never, little one ! 

Jessie. I have so much to ask pardon for. 

Jack. Not another word on that subject, Jess. Once for all, I have 
notliing to forgive; in my eyes you are entirely blameless. But come, 
let us find daddy, and gladden his old heart with the news that in this 
life Jessie Fortune and Jack Nelson will never more be parted. 

[Exetmt, L. 

JEiiter, R., Priscilla ami McKeeqan, arm in arm. 

McK. Ah, Priscilly, me loife, how could ye suspict me av ])ein' un- 
thrue to ye, when ye know I worship the very ground ye tread on. 

PiusciLLA. Oh, Lawrence, darling, forgive my blind jealousy. But the 
thought that you loved another almost frenzied me. 

Mc;K. Say no more about it, Priscilly, me precious ! Faith, it showed 
how much ye do care for me. 

Priscilla. Oh, my Lawrence I (arms around lain.) 

McK. Oh, me lump of sugar! {embrace) Once more, me goddess! 
{embrace) An" now for the tiger, me queen ! {embrace.) 

Peiscilla. And now promise oo little tootsy that oo'll never quarrel 
with her again. 

McK. Wid all me heart, me little ducky ! 

Priscilla and McK. {lo<jetlier). Never ! Never ! Never ! {bitsiness.) 
[TJiey retire up sta<je and exeunt, c. 

Ebiter, L., Fortune, Rankin, Jack, fl;uZ Jessie. 

Jack. What you have told me, Mr. Rankin, is simply astounding. It 
seems well-nigh incredible that a man's villainy could devise so devilish 
a scheme as to cast the shadow of suspicion upon an innocent man to 
insure his own safety. 

Rank. In a very few moments you will have sufficient proof of what 
I have said. In the meantime, do not forget my instructions ; follow 
them implicitly, and leave the rest to me. (takes out watch) It is about 
time for Darkwood's appearance, {r/oes to door, c.) I will give Skinner 
the signal agreed upon, {wares lumdkerchief) He sees it ! {three whis- 
tles are heard) He understands ! But you have not a moment to lose, 
for here comes Darkwood down the road. I will be on liand at the 
proper moment. [Exit, -r. 

Ja(;k. Jessie, to your room at once! {exit Jessie, l.) And now to tear 
the mask of respectability from his villainous brow ! 

Enter, c, Darkwood, accompanied by two constables. 

Dark. Mr. Fortune, I humbly beg your pardon for this intrusion, but 
a matter of much importance is the object of my call. Some months 
ago the community was horrified by the bold burglarj^ of over forty 
thousand dollars from the vaults of ithe Mayville Savings Bank. You, 
Mr. Fortune, was one of the heaviest losers. It was a terrible blow to 
you. But much greater will be the shock when I tell yon by whom you 
were reduced to abject poverty. Mr. Fortune, the "man who caused 



hick'ry farji. 27 

.vour ruin id he whom you love as a son. (poiiitoi;/ to jA(n\) Theiestaiuk 
liie viper you have nourished in your bosom, the scoundrel who robbed 
the May vi'lle Bank ! Constables, do jour duty ! Arrest that man ! 

1mm;t. {steppiiiij between c(»ist(ihies nml Jack). One minit, constables, 
one nunit. Afore ye put tliet order into execution, I've a question to 
ask the Squar'. 

Dauk. {(isa(r). What can the old fool be driving at? 

FoKT. S'posin' ye wus a jedge, an' ther wus brought afore ye two men, 
one accused of stealing fort)' tiiousan' dollars, the otlier cliarged with 
tearin' a fatiier's only darter from his side, causin' him tlie deei)est 
misery and distress. Neow, honest, Squar', which would ye call the 
worst scoundrel ? 

Dakk. I am at a loss to determine the relevancy of your question to 
the present occasion. You are wasting valuable time, and 

Four. Tiien ye refuse to answer ? ^ 

Dark. Officers, once more I call upon you to do your dutj'. Arrest 
that man ! 

Fort. One minit, constables. Fll tell j'e why he dasn't answer. Tlie 
villain wlio stands ther darin' to accuse my boy Jack of a crime he 
never committed, is the despoiler of my home. Ther stands tlie coward 
who by his lyin' words enticed my darter Jess from her father's side ! 

Elder Jessie, l. 

Dark. It is false! false! How dare you? 
Jessie. It is true, as Heaven is my witness! 

Enter Rankin, r. 

Dark. Jessie ! Great Heaven ! What can this mean ? 

Rank. It means, Gilbert Darkwood, Ralph Douglas, or whichever 
of your many aliases you prefer — it means that you have i)layed your 
old game once too often, and have been caugiit napping. 

Dark. ((mil^). Rankin, by all that's damnable ! 

Rank. It means, Ralph Douglas, that in endeavoring to work an in- 
nocent man's ruin, you have run your own neck into the noose You 
are my prisoner, on the charge of robbing tlie Mayville Havings Bank. 

Elite)- Skinner, c. 

Dark. (asi'Je). Euchered, by Heaven ! (rt/o»r/) Rankin, it is useless to 
deny that I have been a bad man in my day, and you can lay many a 
crime at my door, but before God, I am innocent of tlie crime you now 
charge me with. Yonder st^iiuls the real culprit; I swear it! 

Skin, (com in f/ doicii). Gilbert Darkwood, ye lie, an' ye know it ! Yon, 
and none otlier! are guilty of the crime ye are endeavoring to fix on this 
nolde young fellow. 

Dark. Betrayed, and by you, you scoundrel! 

Skin. Yes, Gilbert Darkwood, betrayed by me, yer tool, as ye thought ! 
My revenge is comi)lete ! 

Rank. You see, my fine gentleman, your little jig is danced— now to 
pay the fiddler. 

Dark, {aside). Cornered at last, but not caught yet. My only hope 
lies in escape, and at once, {suddeidii tiirii.t, pistol in hand. Aland) 
Stand aside, as you value your lives; I am desperate ! {pushes his waij 
toward door, c.) 

Rank, (pistol in hand). In the name of the law, I command you to 
stand, or I fire ! 



28 hick'ry farm. 

Dark. Take tliat for an answer, you bloodhound! (shooh. Rankin 
shoots — a cru of yain escapes Dakkwoou — lie shiygers) Curse you, I'm 
hit! (drops on lotet's) You've done for nie this time, (c/dspinf/) Ran- 
kin — curse — y^l {hand at Utroal) A\y\ air! for God's sake. I'm chok- 
ing — I — {dies. Eankin and constables kneel about him. Kcaminalion 
business, McKeegan a/id Puis^jilla rusk in, c.) 

Rank. Mr. Fortune, God has taken justice into his own hands. Gil- 
bert Darkwood will li'ijuble jou no more; he is dead ! 

Ai.L. {startled, sollo vace). Dead! {a slijld paiLse, then Siut^ser cojucs 
j'oru-urd.) 

Skin. Zeks Fortune, I've wrongM ye ez never friend wronged friend 
before; but it was my cursed greed for gold that killed all other feelin's 
in me. I was possessed of a very devil, I kin never atone to ye for 
tlie wrong I did ye. But, for the sake of those manj' happy days we 
spent together ez brothers, kin ye forgive me ? 

Four. 'Riali, ye ain't half ez bad ez ye think j-e are. True it is, ye 
wronged me — wronged me cruelly — but ye've atoned for it nobly, and 
I forgive ye. {shake hands) My little gal is safe home ag'in, an' my boy 
Jack is proved innocent, as I allers knew he was, an' 1 hain't got the 
heart for auj feeliu' but joy- • 

* Darkwood. 
* Rankin. ** Officers, 

* Fortune, * Skinner. 
* Jessie. * Priscilla. 

* Jack, * MoKeegan. 

VUBTAIN. 



PLAYS BY SYDNEY ROSENFELD, ' 

Author of "The Oolah," '* A Possible Case," "The Step- 
ping Stone," and "The Senator;" the most success- 
ful Plays of the day on the New York stage. 

None of the above mentioned Plays can be obtained, as they are heldf 
In manuscript by their respective owners ; but, owing to the great demand) 
for anything from Mr. Rosenfeld's pen, we have prepared the following! 
list of his published plays, which we offer at the uniform rate of 

1 5 cents each. 

MR. X. A Farce in one act, by Sydney Rosenfeld. Three male and 
three female characters. An excruciatingly funny little piece, iis full of life as 
prime (liquet. Costumes modern. Scene, a sitting room. Time in represenlatiou, 
fifty minutes. 

R03EMI SHELL. A Musical Travesty in four scenes, by Sydney 
Rosenfeld. Six males, three females. A very clever, actable burle^^que upon 
Kose Michel. Scenery, local street views and interiors. Costumes, extravagant 
Louis XVI. Time in representation, fifty minutes. 

HER ONLY FAULT. A Comedietta in one act, from the German ol 
Goeriitz, by Sydney Rosenfeld. Two male, two female cliaracters. A charming 
little piece, full of inte^e^t. Scene, !\ handsomely furnished apartment. Costumes 
modern. Time of playing, thirty minutes. 

MARRIED BACHELORS. A Comedietta in one act, by Sydney Hosen- 
feld. Three male, two female characters. Full of the witty authorV exuberance 
of spirit. Scenery, a plain room. Costume modern. Time in representation, 
twenty-five minutes. 

ON BREAD AND "WATER. A Musical Farce in one act, being a free 
adaptation from the German, by Sydney Rosenfeld. A rollicking little, piece. One 
male and two femLile characters. Containing a brilliant soubtetie part. Costumes 
modern. Scene, an uncarpeted school room. Time in reprcsentati .n, twenty- 
five minutes. 

1 SHALL INVITE THE MAJOR. A Parlor Comedy in one act, from the 
German of G. von Moser, by Sydney Rosenfeld. Contain ing five character.-, four 
nnale and one female. A very pleasing little play with good parts for all. Very 
bright and witty. Costumes modern. Scene, a handsome interior. Time in rep- 
resentation, forty minutes. 

HIGH C. A Comedietta in one act (very freely adapted from the 
German of M. A. Grandjean), by Sydney Rosenfeld. Three male, one female char- 
acters. Very droll and sprightly. Costumes modern. Scene, a well-furnished 
room. Time of representation, forty minutes. 

'MABEL'S MANCEUVRE; or, A Third Party. A Parlor Interlude in one, 
' scene, by Sydney Rosenfeld. One male, three female characters. A very charm- 
ins little aflfair. Scene, a neat interior. Costumes modern. Time in representation 
fifteen minutes. 

i THE HAIR APPARENT; or, The Treacherous "Wig. A Farce in one 
act by Sydney Rosenfeld. Five male, one female characters. A very lively piece. 
Scenery, a garden. Costumes modern. Time in representation, twenty miuutea. 

OFF THE STAGE. An entirely original Comedietta in one act, by 
Sydney Rosenfeld. Three male and three female charact<'r.'<, all equally excellent. 
One of the sprightliest, wittiest and most amusing little plays ever written causing 
almost an hour's constant merriment. Costumes modern. Scene, a handsome 
interior. 

Single Copies of any of the above Books sent postpaid on receipt of Prir^ 



DE WITT'S ETHIOPIAN AND COMIC DRAMA.-Contmued. 



M. r. 
33. Jealous HUBband, sketch 2 1 

94. Julius the Suouzer. burlesque, 3 sc. 6 1 
103. Kati'iua'a Little Game, L)utuh act, 

1 Bceu« 1 1 

1. Last of the Mohicaus, sketch 3 1 

36. Laughing Gaa, sketch, 1 sceiie 6 1 

18. Live lujuu, sketch, 4 sceues 4 1 

60. Lost Will, sketch 4 

3T. Lucky Job, farce, 2 scenes 3 2 

90. Lunatic (The), farce, 1 scene 3 

109. Making a Hit, farce, 2 sceues 4 

19. Malic' 5U8 Trespass, sketch, 1 scene. 3 
149. 'Meriky, Ethiopian farce, 1 scene... 3 1 
151. Jlicky Free, Irish sketch, 1 scene.. 5 

96. Miiluight Intruder, farce, 1 scene . 6 1 

147. Milliner's Shop (The), Ethiopian 

sketch, 1 scene 2 2 

129. Moko Marionettes, Ethiopian eccen- 
tricity, 2 scenes 4 5 

101. Molly Moriarty, Irish musical 

sketch, 1 scene 1 1 

117. Motor Bellows, comedy, 1 act 4 

44. Musical Servant, sketch. 1 scene — 3 

8. Mutton Trial, sketch, 2 scenes .... 4 
119. My Wife'sVisitors, comic drama, Isc. 6 1 

49. N'ight in a Strange Hotel, sketch, Isc. 2 
132. Noble Savage, Ethi'n sketch, 1 sc. .. 4 
145. No Pay No Cure, Ethi'n sk»tch,l sc. 6 

22. Obeying Orders, sketch, 1 scene.... 2 1 

27. lOOtii Ni^ht of Hamlet, sketch 7 1 

125. Oh, Hush ! operatic olio 4 1 

30. One Night in a Bar Room, sketch . . 7 

114. One Night in a Medical College, 

Ethiopian sketch, 1 scene 7 1 

76. One, Two, Three, sketch, 1 scene. . 7 

91. Painter's Apprentice, farce, 1 scene. 5 
87. Pete and the Peddler, Negro and 

Irish sketch, 1 scene 3 1 

135. Pleasant Companions, Ethiopiaa 

sketch, 1 scene 5 1 

92. Polar Bear (The), farce, 1 scene 4 1 

9. Policy Players, sketch, 1 scene 7 

57. Pompey's Patients, interlude, 2 sc 6 

65. Porter's Troubles, sketch, 1 scene.. 6 1 

66. Port Wine vs. Jealousy, sketch 2 1 

115. Private Boarding, comedy, 1 scene. 2 3 
14. Recruiting Office, sketch, 1 act 5 

10-5. Rehearsal (The), Irish farce, 2 sc. .. 3 1 

45. Remittance from Home.sketch.l sc. 6 
65. Rigging a Purchase, sketch. 1 sc... 3 



M. 

81. Rival Artists, sketch, 1 BoeBe 4 

26. Rival Tenants, sketch 4 

138. Rival Barbers' ahope (The). Ethio- 
pian laice, 1 scene 6 

15. Sam's Courtship, farce, 1 act 2 

09. Sausage Makers, sketch, 2 scenes.. 5 

21. Scampiui, pantomime, 2 scenes 8 

80. Sceues on tho Mississippi, sketch, 

2 scenes 6 

84. Serenade (The), sketch, 2 scenes.... 7 
88. Siamese Twins, sketch, 2 scenes.... 6 

74. Sleep Walker, sketch, 2 sceues 3 

4<3. Slippery Day, sketch, 1 scene 6 

69. Squire ior a Day, sketch 6 

56. Stage-struck Couple, interlude, 1 bc. 2 

72. Stranger, burlesque, 1 scene 1 

13. Streets of New York, sketch, 1 sc. . . 6 

16. Storming the Fort, sketch, 1 scene. 6 
7. Stupid Servant, sketch, 1 scene 2 

121. Stocks Up ! Stocks Down 1 Negro 

duologue, 1 scene 2 

47. Take It, Don't Take It, sketch, 1 ec. 2 

54. Them Papers, sketch, 1 scene 3 

100. Three Chiefs (The), sketch, 1 scene. 6 

102. Three A. M., sketch, 2 scenes 3 

34. Three Strings to one Bow, sketch, 
1 scene ... 4 

122. Ticket Taker. Ethi'n farce, 1 scene. 3 
2. Tricks, sketch 6 

104. Two Awfuls (The), sketch, 1 scene.. 6 
5. Two Black Roses, sketch 4 

28. Uncle Eph's Dream, sketch, 2 sc. .. 3 
13-1. Unlimited Cheek, sketch, 1 scene.. 4 

62. Vinegar Bitters, sketch, 1 scene 6 

32. Wake up, William Henry, sketch. . . 3 
39. Wanted, a Nurse, sketch, 1 scene... 4 

75. Weston, the Walkist, Dutch sketch, 

1 scene 7 

93. What shall I Take? sketch, 1 scene. 7 

29. Who Died First ? sketch, 1 scene. . . 3 
97. Who's the Actor? farce, 1 scene 4 

137. Whose Baby is it? Ethiopian sketch, 
1 scene . 2 

143. Wonderful Telephone (The), Ethio- 
pian sketch, 1 scene 4 

99. Wrong Woman in the Right Place, 
sketch. 2 scenes 2 

85. Young Scamp, sketch, 1 scene 3 

116. Zacharias' Funeral, farce, 1 scene.. 6 



^a^~;;jj^ A COMPLETE DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE OF DE WITT'S ACT- 
W^Sr^ING PLAYS AND DE WITT'S ETHIOPIAN AND COMIC DRAMAS, 
containing Plot, Costume, Scenery, Time of Representation, and all other informa- 
tion, mailed free and post paid on application. Address 

THE DE WITT PUBLISHING HOUSE, 

No, 33 Rose Street, Ne'wr York. 



,,^'^RARY OF CONGRESS 

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An Iniispnsalile Bod^ for Aiatenrs. 



HOW TO vmh^t 

imnn THEATBICAta 



Being plain instructions for construction and arrangement of Stage, 
making Scenery, getting up Costumes, " Making Up " to represent 
different ages and characters, and how to produce stage Illusions and 
Effects. Also hints for the management of Amateur Dramatic Clubs, 
and a list of pieces suitable for Drawing Room Performances. Hand- 
somely illustrated with Colored Plates. 

Price, 25 Cents. 



DE WITT'S SELECTIONS 

FOR 

AMATEl Al PARLOR THEATRICALS. 

Nos. 1, 2, 3, 4 &^ 5. 

Being choice selections from the very best Dramas, Comedies and 
Farces. Specially adapted for presentation by Amateurs, and for 
Parlor and Drawing Room Entertainments. 

Each number, 25 Cents, 

PANTOMIME PLAY , 

"HUMPTY DUMPTY." 

The celebrated Pantomime, as originally played for 1,000 nights by tho 
late George L. Fox. Arranged by John Denier, Esq. Eight male, 
four female characters. 

JPHce, 25 Cents, 



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